


Right Side of the Sun

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: Karga comms Din out of the blue and asks him to come to Nevarro.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 171





	1. Chapter 1

Karga comms Din out of the blue and asks him to come to Nevarro. 

When Din asks why, the man laughs a touch nervously, eyes ticking to something or someone offs-screen and smiles tightly. Cites security reasons as to why he can’t go into further detail until they speak face-to-face and ends the transmission.

Din stares at the spot where Karga's holo image was moments before, and sighs. Glances to the side where Grogu is using his powers to unscrew the metal knob from the instrument panel. It’s slow progress, painstaking, and there's a quiet squeak at the end of each full rotation.

“No,” Din says, firmly, and gets an affronted look in return. Grogu blinks up at him, hands still outstretched, everything about him clearly expressing the belief that surely Din must be mistaken, Grogu is an innocent party in all this. 

“ _No,_ ” Din repeats, holding up a finger. “You know I need it to fly the ship.”

Grogu blinks, and slowly, slowly lowers his hands. 

========

When Din reaches for the lever as they approach Nevarro, the knob is missing and Grogu gives him a beatific smile full of tiny, sharp teeth.

========

Karga and whatever trouble he’s found for Din this time know they’re coming, so Din decides to do a flyover of the city to get a better idea of what he’s walking into.

Parked just outside the city walls are a pair of X-wings parked outside the walls familiar markings. They flank a light freighter he doesn’t recognize.

Din sighs, tempted to say the hell with it and get the two of them far, far away from Nevarro, but Karga asked him to come here as a favor.

Grogu makes an inquisitive sound, ears perked up.

“I have a bad feeling about this,,” Din mutters, as much to have the words out there where he can point to them later, a-ha, and knew it, when things inevitably go wrong. 

Grogu laughs, and Din rolls his eyes as he brings the _Razor Crest_ around for a landing.

========

Din can hear Karga talking before the ramp is fully lowered.

“Now, Mando,” Karga says, a note to his voice Din has learned to dread, “I need you to hear me out first.”

Din raises an eyebrow at that, and looks past Karga to the X-wing pilots, familiar faces by now despite Din’s best efforts. They seem more amused than anything else, and he chooses to take that as a sign.

Karga follows his gaze, and sighs. “There’s...a situation,” he admits, as though Din hadn’t noticed for himself.

“I can see that,” he allows, and taps in a command on his vambrace that brings Grogu’s pram even with him as he walks down the ramp. 

Worst comes to worst, the kids gotten good at recognizing trouble, when to seal the thing up tight and wait for the all clear.

Karga seems surprised Din’s willing to listen without more of an explanation, but the fact of the matter is that Dins tired. A string of bounties that had him hopping from system to system and barely worth it in the end.

He needs supplies. The Crest needs fuel and minor repairs. He hasn’t eaten anything that wasn’t rations in almost a month. Hasn’t stayed planet-side longer than few hours at a time in just as long, and Nevarro is more of a safe haven these days than anywhere else he’s been.

“If you’re sure?” Karga asks, eyes flicking to the X-wing pilots and back, something that helps soothe Din’s nerves.

“Got nothing better to do.”

========

“Cara?” Din asks as they walk, the city residents going about their business as if it’s any other day, calm, relaxed.

Karga shrugs, slight rise and fall of his shoulders, makes a vague gesture at the city round them. “Giving out guests a tour of the place,” he says, something just a little off with his smile Din can’t quite figure out. 

Whatever it is, though, doesn’t seem to worry him. It feels more like...well. Confusion. Incredulousness, even.

Din hums, glances back at the X-wing pilots when one of them snorts, laughs quietly, that amusement again.

The man smiles at him when he notices, and Din bites back another sigh. The two of them are always so smug. 

It’s...irritating.

========

The Mythrol greets them with a nervous wave before scurrying out at a look from Karga, squeezing past the X-wing pilots who have taken up guard positions outside.

“Better he not be here for this,” Karga explains, waving Din to a chair, sparing a small smile to Grogu who’s watching everything intently. “Security concerns.”

It’s not the first time Karga’s mentioned that since he contacted Din, and does nothing for Din’s unease with the situation.

“So you said,” Din murmurs, choosing to tuck Grogu’s pram close to the wall and foregoes the seat Karga offered him, choosing to remain standing, a move that garners a flicker of a smile. “You want to tell me why that is?”

Karga offers him something to drink, which Din politely declines. Then he offers Grogu something to drink. Snacks. A paperweight on his desk shaped like a dewback. Delaying, Din realizes, busying himself with social niceties to avoid answering the question.

“Karga.”

A look, apology, but nothing like guilt, regret. 

Din turns his attention back to Grogu, eyes wide as he studies the array of snacks and treats in front of him, a veritable feast. 

“He’ll make himself sick,” Din points out, past experience speaking.

Karga laughs, claps a hand on Din’s shoulder and _not listening_ , says, “Surely not, he’s a smart little guy.”

Din stares at him.

“Surely,” he says, because apparently this is a lesson Karga has to learn for himself.

========

Karga’s trying to bribe Grogu for the last packet of cookies using a shiny bauble he pilled out of a desk drawer when the doors to Karga’s office open.

He freezes, shiny bauble extended towards Grogu even as his eyes move towards the doors and whoever has walked in.

“Ah,” he says, and smiles, polite, welcoming, _fixed_. Karga gives Grogu the bauble and straightens up. Clears his throat. “That went fast than expected.”

There’s a snort, and a familiar voice.

“Place isn’t that big.”

Cara, and she sounds the way she always does.

Din turns to face her, head tilting at the slight changes since they saw one another last. 

“Cara,” he greets. Looks askance at the figures with her. A slight woman with her hair up in an intricate style, and a scruffy looking man. “Good to see you.”

She smirks at him, chin raised. “Mando.” Jerks her chin towards the others. “These two were looking for you.”

 _Play nice,_ she doesn’t say, and Din’s eyes narrow.

He considers what to say, discarding the ruder, blunter options even though they’re far more honest. 

“You’re looking for me,” he settles on, not making it a question. Lets them choose how this goes next.

Somewhere behind him Cara muffles a laugh, and Grogu echoes her. 

Karga is staring at him, years in the armor and a certain sense about things like that. 

Whoever these people are, they’re important, and Din isn’t making it easy on them, or Karga. Doesn’t feel inclined at the moment.

He focuses on the woman, her bearing that of someone used to being listened to. Command, leadership sitting easy on her shoulder, and a sharp, shrewd look in her eyes as she studies him. Her companion seems cut from the same cloth of every bounty he’s ever tracked. Dangerous, yes, but familiar all the same.

The woman, on the other hand - 

“My name is Leia,” she says, “and I’d like to hire you.”

========

Leia wants Din to find someone for her.

========

“…Alive?” Din asks.

Karga wheezes, and Din can feel him glaring.

Blunt, maybe, but he prefers knowing the answer going into a job like this. Reduces the complaints clients have, to start with.

Leia cocks her head, seems to consider the question. Takes longer in answering than her companion seems to think she should because he leans towards her, says, “Leia, he’s your _brother_.”

That’s...unexpected.

Din’s eyes drop to the holo Leia had set down, recording paused.

Human male, young. Late twenties, early thirties at his best guess. Blonde, according to Leia. Blue eyes.

There’s a resemblance between them, one he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t know to look for it.

“If you must,” Leia finally decides, like it pains her to do so. 

The smile on her face, tone of her voice, however, say otherwise, like she’s inviting him to join in on a joke he doesn’t understand.

She’s...confusing, but he’s sure whatever reason she has to hiring him, she doesn’t want her brother dead out of it.

“Does he owe you money?” he asks. 

It’s a reasonable question, although she strikes him as someone who’d go a more direct route in that case. In most cases, really. Wouldn’t outsource to someone like him. 

Cara snorts, chokes on further laughter before she regains her composure, offers up a strangled, “Sorry, don’t mind me.”

The back of Din’s neck itches, urge to turn to her and demand answers almost too strong to ignore. 

He’s missing something, and it grates. It’s clear that both Karga and her know who Leia and her companion are, as well as the man Leia wants him to find.

“No,” Leia says, eyebrow raised, something like a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “He doesn’t.”

Her companion snorts, rolls his eyes. Mutters something that sounds like “Yeah, well he sure as hell owes _me_ money.” 

Leia doesn’t bat an eye.

Din hums.

She makes Karga...not nervous, exactly, just. _Polite_. She makes him polite, has him treating her and her companion with utmost respect.

Not like she’s a threat, a danger, as she could become one. Obvious that it’s not something Karga wants to happen if the glare he can feel boring into the back of his head means anything.

“I’m not cheap,” he says, because he doesn’t really have a choice in this. 

Karga called him, asked for a favor, and whether he realizes it or not, Din does owe him. 

Leia blinks, smiles. 

“I figured,” she says, eyes moving to Karga. “He said you were the best in the parsec.”

Even though he’s heard it before from Karga himself, Din’s not expecting it.

“What? You want me to lie?” demands, makes a joke of it. “She asked for the best, and you’re it, Mando.”

========

Leia and her companion left several hours ago escorted by the X-wing pilots. Din spent the time doing what he planned to before Karga commed him, ordering supplies and repairs for the _Razor Crest_.

Karga washed his hands of Din once Leia and her people left, muttering to himself as Cara nudges Din and Grogu towards the door. 

“You have no idea who they are, do you?” Cara asks, helping Din stow supplies.

When he looks at her, she’s grinning, smirking. _Delighted._

Din eyes her warily. 

“Should I?” 

He should. He knows he should, but it’s second nature by now to keep his head down, go his way rather than involve himself with other people’s matters.

His armor draws attention enough, no reason to add to it out of misplaced curiosity.

Cara shakes her head, biting her lip as she heads back down the ramp for the last of the supplies, shoulders shaking.

Din sighs, shooting Grogu a look when he catches the kid pawing through one of the crates looking for food.

“Grogu, no,” he says, and hurries over because the kid has that look on his face again, wounded innocent unfairly accused, even though Din caught him in the act. _Again._

========

Grogu falls asleep shortly after the enter hyperspace leaving Din alone with his thoughts.

Leia didn’t have a bounty puck for him, didn’t have a tracing fob.

Just the information she’d already given him and the holo.

It’s not the most unusual job he’s taken, that’s for sure, but there’s something slightly off about the whole situation.

Din hits play, watches the holo blink into existence, and cocks his head.

He doesn’t know what Leia’s brother did to make her seek out a bounty hunter, can’t honesty say he cares that much either, so long as it doesn’t have anything to do with him and his,

Looking at that smiling face, the mischief evident in his expression, Din gets the feeling "Luke" is going to be trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

Since meeting Grogu, Din feels caught somewhere between the man he was before that day and the man he’s become since then.

Before Grogu, he wouldn’t have asked questions about the jobs he takes. Better not to know for the most part, for any number of reasons.

No sides to be taken, just jobs to be done and money to be paid.

There were always exceptions, jobs he turned down, walked away from even though they would have paid handsomely. (Mayfeld had it right, about being able to sleep at night.)

Now, though.

He’s been halfway across the galaxy going from system to system chasing word of mouth and rumors looking for this Luke character Leia sent him after. Not even a tracking fob to go on, which really should have been a warning sign on its own.

Still, Leia assured him she had faith that Din would find Luke, that he would _know_ when he did, which, again, should have been a warning sign.

Grogu’s chattering to himself in his chair, playing with a shiny rock he found on the latest planet they stopped by in the search for Luke. Doesn’t really look like much, but if it keeps Grogu from stealing bits of the ship Din needs to fly it, he doesn’t see the harm.

“What did you say he did for a living before all…” Din waves a hand, too tired to think of how to express whatever reason she had for going to someone like Din. “This?”

Din _hurts_. Feels old and tired after chasing after the latest batch of rumors that turned out to be useless. Mud and rain and cold he’s still trying to shake from his bones. 

They were barely out of atmosphere the communications array had lit up, Leia contacting them for an update on his search, a stipulation she insisted on before hiring him.

Not a common thing his clients ask for from him, but not the strangest thing either. 

Leia tips her head to the side. “I didn’t,” she says, clearly amused. “But if it helps, he was a moisture farmer.”

Moisture farmer.

_Moisture farmer._

Din knows, from the careful things Leia’s told him, that she and Luke didn’t grow up together. That she does care for him, even though she doesn’t seem to find the fact she’s set a bounty hunter with Din’s reputation after her brother in any way odd or unusual.

He knows Luke hates the cold and would not willingly spend time on a world like Hoth, that any rumors that said otherwise were almost certainly false.

(There’s a story there he hasn’t earned the right too in the way she’d looked away from him she shared that, mouth turned down and voice rough when she finally spoke again.)

He knows Luke is a skilled pilot, and while he hasn’t seen it for himself he saw proof enough in half a dozen TIE fighters broken and still bleeding air into the vacuum of space over a jungle planet.

Din’s been chasing Luke for weeks now, system to system, planet to planet. Either coming within moments of just missing him according to the people he talked to or winding up in entirely the wrong place. No choice but to double back and hope he could pick up the trail again.

He swears the man must know someone’s tracking him, that word of a Mandalorian bounty hunter has been asking after him has to have gotten ahead of Din, gotten to Luke. That surely he was spreading rumors about his whereabouts himself, laying false trails for Din to follow and laughing about it when Din does.

Thought with that someone as formidable as Leia is, someone with her kind of presence, her brother must be cut from the same cloth. 

Thinks, with the things he’s come close to seeing with his own eyes, always a step behind, it’s true.

And yet.

“Moisture farmer,” Din hears himself say, knows the voice modulator in his helmet strips finer nuances away, but this -

Leia laughs like she knows what a chase Luke’s given him so far, and how Din feels about him, about the entire situation.

“Try Tatooine,” she says. “I have a good feeling about it.”

And then, just before she ends her transmission, she grins. One that makes her look young, carefree.

“Remember, Mando. Bring him in _alive_.”

Din sighs, and turns to face Grogu when he feels him watching him. Grogu’s ears droop when he sees Din looking at him. Manages to make his eyes look bigger somehow, sad, disappointed, and coos softly, little hands clutching his shiny rock to his chest.

“What?” Din asks, refusing to feel guilty about the turn his thoughts took after Leia’s parting words. “He’d still be alive if I put him carbonite.”

Another sad coo, and then Grogu shuffles around until his back is to Din, makes soft little noises to himself that Din still hasn’t been able to harden his heart against.

“... _Fine_ , no carbonite,” he mutters gracelessly, and shifts his attention forward, ignoring the quiet giggle from behind him.

========

There was a planet once, where Din actually _saw_ Luke.

It was a strange, lonely place with homes built on water that had wooden piers connecting them. Birds calling to one another overhead and swooping down to pluck fish from the endless sea.

Dark, stormy skies that didn’t clear the entire time Din was there.

It was out of the way of normal travel lanes, Din and Grogu forced to stop for fuel after yet another fruitless time spent investigating a rumor about Luke.

Tired and hungry with a handful of credits left to his name and just wanting a chance for a decent night’s rest.

Grogu was the one who wanted to explore the marketplace, wide eyes and quivering ears, mouth open in wonder at the sight of it as Din negotiated the cost of fuel with a bored worker.

Din couldn’t fault Grogu for it when the marketplace spread across dozens of flat-bottomed boats with brightly colored awnings and cheerful vendors calling insults to one another as they tried to steal customers by undercutting prices. The entire thing as large and bustling as any marketplace Din had been to.

Luke, a lean figure in black examining an odd object made of crystal a salvage diver was selling from their boat.

He’d looked...sad.

Tired.

The sight of him after weeks of searching had frozen Din in place in surprise, and it had been Grogu’s hands patting the side of his helmet that broke him of it.

Something – he still doesn’t know what – had caused Luke to look up, eyes landing on Din and Grogu.

Din had watched as his eyes went wide, seen them jerk up from Grogu perched on Din’s shoulder to meet his.

Luke had laughed, sound of it lost in the noise of the crowd between them, a look of disbelief, incredulousness on his face that faltered the moment Din had taken a step towards him.

Weeks of looking, searching, and he’d finally seen him by sheer chance. 

Dumb luck.

Din pushed through the crowd to get to him, but there were so many people between them in such a contained area Luke was gone. 

A silhouette on a waveskimmer speeding towards the far end of the landing pads, and no possibly chance for Din or Grogu to catch up with him like all the times before.

========

Peli volunteers to watch Grogu, slips him from Din’s arms before she’s finished telling him how much repairs will cost this time. Shoos him away with a wave of her hand, pit droids scurrying underfoot and a promise to do what she can for the _Crest_.

Leia’s feeling, her hunch, doesn’t give Din much to go on when it comes to finding Luke, so Din visits the usual places information can be found.

Ends a fight he didn’t start with an Aqualish and his human associate.

The bartender says nothing as Din describes Luke to him, wiping down the same glass he was when Din walked into the cantina, but when Din finishes talking the man shakes his head. Sighs. Mumbles something to himself about fools, and counts him among their number as he looks up at Din.

“Try your luck the marketplace, Mandalorian,” he says, and sets the glass down under the counter, flipping the towel he’d used to clean it onto his shoulder as he walks away. “You’ll find all kinds there.”

========

The marketplace is loud, crowded.

People moving around one another as they go about their business, browsing wares and haggling with vendors. Pickpockets wend their way through the flow of people with ease, eyes sharp, watchful as the hone in easy targets in the unwary. 

Din catches one before she touches his credit pouch. Hand wrapped around her wrist and a defiant – scared – look in her eyes.

She’s young, small. Thin and wearing clothes that show signs of being mended and mended again with a skill that slowly improved in the neatness of the stitches.

Leia told him that while Luke is a dangerous man, someone he shouldn’t underestimate, he’s not dangerous to others unless he’s been given reason to be. (Oddly, Din thinks of Mayfeld's words again, of lines that aren’t crossed until things get messy.)

And yet - 

“I’ll pay you to help me find someone,” Din says, grip firm but not so much she couldn’t pull her arm free, run to safety if she was truly afraid for her life. “Do you understand?”

Her eyes narrow, gaze dropping from the face of his helmet to his hand on her wrist. 

Din lets go, half expecting her to run, to disappear in the crowd, but she doesn’t. Stands there looking up at him instead, considering his offer.

“...How much?”

Din blinks, and feels himself start to smile as he dips into his credit pouch and picks out several coins. Holds them out for her to see, decide if it’s a price he agrees with. Surprises him with the way she looks away, bites her lip as she mulls something over.

“I have friends,” she says at last, soft, hesitant as though she thinks he’ll rescind his offer at her presumption. “More eyes to help.”

Mouths to feed, bodies to clothe and shelter.

Mos Eisley hasn’t change that much from the first time Din came here years and years ago. This, children like this clever little pickpocket are always part of it.

Din cocks his head, watches the way she meets his gaze as well as she knows how. Better than most adults he’s come across.

“How many?” 

========

Din drifts through the marketplace looking for Luke. He stops at vendors selling sweets, small treats and delicacies. Antoher who weaves blankets, thin, light, but durable. More, others, haggles the price down at some, walks away from others without making a purchase.

Around him Kalamay and her friends dart and weave through the crowd with the energy children have, bright and reckless and sometimes when they bounce off someone they come away with a credit pouch or bit of jewelry held tight in their hands as they bow their head and utter apologies before melting back into the crowd.

Better thieves than Kalamay showed herself to be, unless - 

Din goes still, ignores the Jawa trying to trade him some useless part for his blaster. Turns his head to track one of the kids as he ducks into an alley, ill-gotten goods tucked into the sleeves of his shirt. Glimpses another scrambling over a wall opposite him.

Feels fingers at his waist and his hand flashes out, hand wrapping around a thin wrist.

Kalamay.

The defiance from earlier is there in her eyes, again, still, but there’s frustration too, flickering ember of anger.

Her mouth twists when she tries to pull out of hold to find she can’t this time. “He told us you’d pay us,” she says, the words not making sense. “Said it was a _game_ you played.”

There’s something very much like disdain in her voice mixed with confusion.

Din opens his mouth to speak, and stops when he sees Kalamay looking at something – someone – past Din’s shoulder.

Instinct, or maybe resignation, makes Din look.

It’s Luke.

 _Of course_ it’s Luke.

He’s forgone the hooded cloak of his in deference to Tatooine’s heat, and he’s...smiling.

No, not smiling. 

Luke is _smirking_ , and it’s so like Leia’s that Din is thrown for a moment, frozen, rooted to the spot.

And then Luke laughs, close enough Din hears it this time, light and bright and like it really is a game, a joke, fun little exercise of theirs.

 _Alive,_ Din reminds himself, Leia wants the bastard alive.

A slight pull on his hand makes Din look away from Luke, focus back on the girl whose wrist he’s holding.

Kalamay’s watching him with a wary look on her face, poised to run. Her gaze moves to Luke, and back to him and Din, as though she knows something is off, wrong, but not quite what.

Din sighs, lets his anger, annoyance bleed away. They’re not for her, anyway.

Din’s grip on her wrist loosens, and he reaches for his credit pouch. Slowly, carefully, he pushes it into her hands, curls her fingers around it. Something that wants to be amusement flickers tugs at his mouth when her eyes go wide as she feels the weight of it, fingers tightening on the credit pouch.

There’s more than he intended to pay her and her friends for their services, but Din knows he doesn’t have the time to count it out properly. 

“What? Why - “she says, initial surprise giving way to suspicion. “I - “

“I hired you to find him,” he says, aware that Luke is watching this, and that Kalamay’s friends are as well, creeping out from their hiding spaces. Miraculously no one else seems to take notice of them at all as the go about their business. Even the Jawa has left. “Which...you did.”

Technically.

Kalamay squints at him.

It’s not her fault Luke deceived her, tricked her. She thought they were friends.

“Take it,” Din says, releasing his hold. “I have business to deal with.”

Luke’s still there when Din turns around, still amused. The smirk is gone, however, and in its place there’s a smile. 

One that flickers the moment Din takes a step towards him, kicks up into a grin again as Luke raises a hand and tosses Din a jaunty two-finger wave. 

Luke laughs, the sound maddening over the noise of the crowd. He takes a step back - 

Din is so close to finally catching him after all this time, so close.

\- and disappears into the marketplace crowd without a trace.

Din pushes through the final distance to the spot Luke was standing, scanning the area. He filters through several sensor modes with little to show for it. There are too many people here, too many tracks to follow.

Din growls, startling the people nearest him, and it’s a bitter thing in his chest that wants to laugh at the way they move away from him, the rest of the crowd following suit without looking to see why.

Movement at his periphery pulls Din around to see one of Kalamay’s friends. The boy raises an arm and points toward the mouth of an alley half hidden by tattered banners, rusted bits of scrap metal fashioned into chimes, or more likely part of a rudimentary alarm.

It could be more of Luke’s trickery, this game he’s playing, but he really doesn’t have any better leads, does he?

========

There’s a calamity.

His name is Luke.

Din ends up in jail.

========

“Mando, Mando, Mando,” Peli says, shaking her head sadly as she covers Grogu’s eyes with a hand, Din can only assume to keep him from seeing Din in such a state. “I never thought it would come to this.”

Din sighs, thumps his head against the pale stone wall behind him as if doing so will knock sense back into him.

“Peli,” he says, tired, so very tired. When she ignores him in favor of lamenting what a terrible father, a horrible delinquent Din’s turned out to be to an appreciative audience of Grogu, Din tries again. Louder. “ _Peli_.”

She breaks off mid-word to level a highly unimpressed look at him. Grogu balanced on one hip, a hand on the other having given up shielding him from the sorry sight Din surely makes.

“Seems to me,” she says archly, glancing down at Grogu seriously. “Seems to me Mandalorians in detention cells shouldn’t be taking that tone with the person who’s posting bail for them.”

========

Din explains what happened to Peli once they get back to the landing pad and the _Razor Crest_. its dark, middle of the night and all Din wants is rest, sleep.

But Peli had come when he commed her asking for help in a matter she had no reason to get involved in. So when she asks him what happened that he ended up arrested, in jail, he finds he can’t deny her that simple thing. (His pride, what’s left of it after such a humiliating day, will recover.)

He explains the cantina - 

“Yeah, heard about that one. You know I drink there, right?”

He explains about the marketplace, about Kalamay and her friends and Luke’s “game” that resulted in Din chasing him through the marketplace. 

How Luke had doubled back when Din caught him at the end of the alley, climbed up a way and gone over Din’s head and back into the marketplace, Din fast on his heels. Luke faster, more agile without the weight of armor, able to dodge where Din bulled forward due to inertia and momentum in such a crowded space. (Ruined kiosks and booths and wares.)

Marketplace vendors and customers who hadn’t taken kindly to any of that and the local authorities who took their complaints seriously enough to arrest Din in the aftermath, charge him fines and fees and putting him in a detention cell while he waited to see if Peli would come.

Din takes Grogu from her when she starts laughing so hard she double over with it.

“Peli,” Din says, suddenly noticing what Grogu is wearing. “Where did these come from?”

Peli wipes tears from her eyes, still chuckling as she straightens up, gaze coming to rest on Grogu with a fond smile.

“You friend dropped them by earlier,” she says, and reaches out to tug gently on the brim of the little bucket hat on Grogu’s head. Plucks at the neck of the poncho he’s wearing over his usual clothes to straighten it, fingers brushing over the pattern “Said you’d forgotten it and he was just doing you a favor bringing them here.”

There’s suspicion in her eyes, voice trailing off as Din stares at Grogu who seems utterly unbothered, perhaps even delighted with his new outerwear as he plays with the brim of his hat, sharp little teeth on display in a wide smile.

“Blonde hair? Blue eyes? Likes to wear black? Seemed real amused about something.”

Din’s going to kill him. 

Forget what Leia wants, _Din’s going to kill him_.

“Mando?” Peli cocks her head. “ _Was_ he your friend?”

Din looks to her, and thinks that if he answers _no_ , the next time Peli sees him Luke’s going to get a blaster bolt to the face if he’s not careful.

“It’s fine,” Din says, and pushes the bucket hat down so it covers Grogu’s eyes, and laughs at the surprised squeak it gets him, little hands shoving it back up so he can scowl at Din. “It’s fine, Peli.”

He wouldn’t say Luke is an enemy, hasn’t given Din reason to think of him as such. An annoyance, yes. A pest? Definitely. Enemy? 

No, not yet anyway.

========

“Get it over with,” Din says, watching as Leia struggles to maintain her composure in light of Din’s latest update.

To her credit, she holds up a hand, apologizes and leaves the room before she breaks into laughter. Unfortunate then, she left the transmission open and he can hear it all.

Din sighs, and watches hyperspace blur by until Leia comes back into view. Visibly fighting to keep her smile from overtaking her face, but it’s clearly a losing battle.

“I’ll handle the fines,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “And reimburse your friend – Peli, was it?”

Din feels...guilt, feels guilty with Leia offering to pay for Din’s recklessness, for letting his anger get the better of him, for his mistakes. This time it resulted in fines and fees, but next time could be another story.

He doesn’t need to be in her debt for his own foolishness, can take jobs to pay for the fines and fees himself. Pay Peli back.

“You don’t have to - “ he starts to say, only to cut himself off at the look Leia levels him with. Stern, commanding. And still he tries again. “Leia.”

A stubborn shake of her head and the faintest hint of a smile. “He’s my brother, Mando. I’m the one who hired you, the least I can do is make sure you can do your job without worrying about minor concerns.”

It’s generous. Far more so than any of his past clients, employers. Part of him is suspicious of it, wary of a trick, a trap much the way Kalamay had been when he gave her his credit pouch.

And yet, he knows she means it. Doesn’t give a second thought to the matter.

“If you say so,” Din allows, and looks down at grumbling coming from ankle height. Watches in amusement as Grogu climbs into his lap, determined little womp rat that he is. 

He hears a quiet gasp, and glances up to Leia, an unreadable expression on her face. “Is that – Mando, is he wearing a _poncho_?”

Din settles Grogu more comfortably, places his hands around him so he won’t fall in his excitement as he shows off his new clothing to Leia who nods seriously as though she understands his happy babbling

“Yes,” Din sighs, exhausted. “They were gifts from Luke.”

Leia is laughing. Delighted, joyful, eyes taking in the tiny poncho and bucket hat Luke gifted Grogu with after having a direct hand in Din getting arrested, _put in jail_.

========

Later, once Leia’s laughter has faded to an occasional chuckle or delighted grin at the sight of Grogu, Din asks her a very important question, need for clarification.

“Alive?” he asks, anger from before having burned out long before, replaced with exasperation and frustration, something that feels horribly like reluctant admiration. 

Leia gives him a look. 

“Unfortunately yes,” she says, and this time, to Din’s deep regret, he understands what the smile on her face, the tone of her voice means, understands the joke she’d tried to share with him before he knew what an utter menace her brother is. 

It isn’t until she ends the transmission that Din realizes he forgot to ask what her stance on putting Luke in carbonite is, but no matter. He can ask her the next time she checks in for an update.

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this not!fic of mine.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29052918/chapters/71311680)
> 
> I hope to continue it with future installments if it keeps my interest, but my track record with wips is, let's just say, not great. /o\


End file.
